


What Does It Mean...?

by TheLadysBlush (BlushingNewb)



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home - Fandom, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 20th Century, Fal-tor-pan, M/M, Memory Loss, Missing Scene, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, old married spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 03:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16673809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlushingNewb/pseuds/TheLadysBlush
Summary: On the bus trip to the Cetacean Institute, Admiral Kirk and Captain Spock continue their discussion about the culture of 20th century Earth. For Spock, some of Kirk’s comments raise more questions than they answer.





	What Does It Mean...?

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2018 Old Married Spirk Challenge!

Kirk was roughly jostled once again into Spock’s upper arm as the bus shivered and jolted. He internally muttered 23rdcentury imprecations to himself; it felt as though the highway was made up of nothing but potholes and buckled asphalt. It probably was. This era’s transportation was pitifully primitive, notable for its unrestrained consumption of fossil fuels – the odor of which currently filled his nostrils. The smell of the diesel was nauseating and familiar. It brought back memories of the fumaroles on the Genesis planet, and the desperation he had felt then rose up to haunt him now. 

At least it was finally quiet. A corner of Kirk’s mouth quirked at the sight of the young man slumped onto his boxy music-amplification device. He’d be out cold for at least another half hour, if Kirk recalled correctly, and by then they’d be at the Cetacean Institute. Hopefully they’d get a lead there, and while time wasn’t a factor in the traditional sense, he felt the need for haste.

“Admiral,” said Spock, breaking him out of his dark contemplations. 

“I told you not to call me that,” hissed Kirk automatically. 

Spock nodded assent, and Kirk thanked his lucky stars that he wasn’t about to be engaged in an ontological debate. 

“What does it mean, ‘For a good time, call…’”?

Kirk’s brain screeched to a sudden halt.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

Spock pointed to the grubby divider Kirk was wedged against, and for the first time, Kirk noticed some white writing scrawled there. It said, “For A good TiME, CALL Becky 867-5309.” The messy script was punctuated by a series of enthusiastic exclamation points and a drawing. The drawing was indecipherable, no matter how much Kirk squinted at it. It occurred to him that this might actually be a good thing.

“Jim.”

Kirk pinched the upper bridge of his nose.

“For a good time, call?” Spock asked, curiosity coloring his voice.

Kirk stared flatly out into space. Unbidden, thoughts sprang forth into his head with brutal clarity. His own laughter ringing in his ears, echoing off the walls of the bathroom, and the sensation of a sharp sting on his bare ass where he’d been swatted by a towel. And above all, the mischievous light in Spock’s eyes as Kirk had grinned up at him.

“Yeah,” Kirk answered eloquently. He cleared his throat. The healers had warned him that Spock would never be the same, would never be as he had known him. Tonelessly, he began to explain.

“It’s an old Terran colloquialism. Relating to…” Kirk struggled. “Contacting some person who’s interested in a hook-up, I guess,” he finally said. “But the person may not have actually consented to their name being put up, though, so it’s probably unethical,” he continued, extracting a ballpoint pen from his jacket pocket.

“Hook-up?” 

Kirk sighed and scrubbed the pen over the graffiti. “When two people get together for…” _What the hell_ , he thought, _why not_? “…For copulation,” he finished weakly.

Spock nodded and put his hands together in front of his face. At the sight of him the pit in Kirk’s stomach clenched, and he felt an ache from somewhere that couldn’t still exist.

“It is a reference to reproduction?” asked Spock. 

Kirk closed his eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “Well, if not reproduction exactly, the biology of two people, at the very least.”

At those words, Spock…startled. It was a motion of his body that wouldn’t have been visible to anyone, but Kirk felt the sudden tension of Spock’s bicep against his arm. Kirk ground his teeth together.

After a time, Spock said, “I see.”

There was silence between them for the rest of the trip.

* * *

Several months later, as the door of his new cabin slid shut, Kirk’s own words echoed in his head. _We’ve come home_.

And they really had. They hadn’t arrived in nearly the same condition as they’d first started this journey, but at least they were together. Surely that was what was most important.

Surely.

Kirk looked over at the door to his bathroom, the bathroom that was solely his. It featured an option for a water shower, just as the old _Enterprise’s_ had. But unlike the bathroom on the previous _Enterprise_ , there was no door to the first officer’s quarters. No, the first officer was to be allocated his own facilities. An upgrade, an improvement upon the previous design.

Feeling a pang from the place where his soul had once touched Spock’s, Kirk closed his eyes tightly. He had him back, wasn’t that enough? Spock had defied reality itself, was flesh and blood again, his voice had the power to gift them with his precious thoughts, and sometimes, if Kirk was lucky, glimpses of the feelings that lived deep in that Vulcan heart.

It would have to be enough. He collapsed on the bed, curling in on himself and bunching his fists into his eyes against the memories.

_Captain, the sonorous voice teased. His own laughter bounced off the shower stall._

_That’s admiral to you, **Captain** Spock, Jim said, smirking at his beloved’s impassive face._

_Your lingering in the shower is most illogical._

_The door to the cubicle was opened and steam poured into the rest of the bathroom._

_Maybe I was waiting for you to join me? Jim leered at Spock’s naked body._

_Water showers are inefficient, Jim._

_And what are you going to do about that, Captain? Jim taunted, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking, brazenly displaying himself for his lover._

_There remains but one option, Spock said, stepping inside. He spun Jim so that his back was pressed to his furry chest and threaded their fingers together. I must bathe you myself, Spock murmured, and his hands drifted gently away from Jim’s to caress his abdomen, to glide over his hips, to make their way to the inner apex of his thighs…_

A whistle came from Kirk’s door, jerking him painfully back into the present. He slapped at the room’s comm button.

“Yes?” he asked shortly.

“It is Spock,” came the placid voice from the hallway. Kirk swiped a palm over his face. He wanted to see Spock. Didn’t want to see him.

But would always let him in, no matter the cost.

“By all means,” Kirk said, “please come in.”

Spock entered, carrying a book under his arm and Kirk’s heart seized. _No, J.T., you old ass_ , he berated himself. _Don’t even think about it_.

“Captain, how do you find your new quarters?” Spock asked.

_Unbearable_ , thought Kirk. Instead he answered, “They’re adequate. Advanced to be sure. Definitely an improvement over the _Bounty_.”

“There can be no disputing that, Jim,” Spock said, and Kirk looked at him sharply. He had to be imagining the tenderness in Spock’s voice. They had worked together companionably over the last few months, and to Kirk it had seemed that Spock had regained a sense of himself, a measure of comfort with both his Vulcan and human sides.

“Take a seat,” Kirk said, settling himself at his table. Spock did so and placed the book in front of Kirk so that the title was facing him: _The Name of the Rose_.

“How on earth did you get this?” Kirk exclaimed with delight. “It’s in mint condition!”

“On Earth indeed,” Spock replied, and Kirk almost thought a smug expression crossed his face. “While it would undoubtedly be difficult to come by today, it was so popular in 1986 that even grocery stores still had multiple copies of it.”

“1986?” Kirk blinked rapidly. “Why, Mr. Spock, you old rascal. When did you have the time to go shopping?”

“I was honest with you at the time. I do not care for the seasoning in Italian food, though pasta has much to offer a vegetarian. When I arrived at the park I found myself partially recalling some moments we had shared in our past and went for a walk. I knew…without knowing how I knew at the time…that you appreciated classic Terran literature. This title in particular…when I read it, I remembered.”

“What did you remember?” Kirk leaned forward eagerly, and he could hear blood rushing through his ears.

“I remembered your laughter. At first it was only the sound of your laughter, and your smile. The way it shaped your face. Its beauty. But later…and in the last few weeks, when I look at the door of your quarters…” Spock’s voice lowered so that Kirk had to strain to hear him.

“I remember ‘biology,’ Jim,” Spock said, covering Kirk’s hand with his own. “I remember when you first held my hand, I remember this…feeling.”

Kirk was shaking all over, but he found enough control within himself to seize Spock’s hand and bring it to his lips. God, his hands showed all the signs of his advancing age, but he squeezed Spock’s with every bit of the strength he could still muster, just as he had done more than a decade ago, when Spock had first come back to him. The years had dropped away then, just as they were now. Spock brushed two fingers over Kirk’s temples, over his eyelids, dipping them in the tears that trailed down his cheeks.

“ _Ashayam_ ,” said Spock, placing his forehead against Kirk’s, “I have come home to you.”

Kirk took Spock’s fingers and spread them clumsily along his meld points. He would never be sure afterward if he had spoken the words aloud.

_I await thee._

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the works of Farfalla, Rhaegal, Killa, and KS T’lan (who has written some of the best K/S shower scenes ever). Long live Old Married Spirk!


End file.
